


Fourth Quarter

by UAgirl



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Adult Language, Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Baby Fic, Crossover, Eventual Resolved Sexual Tension, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Sexual Situations, Teen Angst, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22077895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UAgirl/pseuds/UAgirl
Summary: In which Carol and Daryl navigate friends, family, first and forever loves, and oh yeah, a little bit (but not too much) of football.Without a playbook.
Relationships: Andrea/Michonne (Walking Dead), Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier, John Dorie/June, Lori Grimes/Rick Grimes, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Sophia Peletier/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Fourth Quarter

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Fourth Quarter 
> 
> Rating: M. 
> 
> Warnings: adult language. 
> 
> Characters/Pairings: Carol Peletier, Daryl Dixon, Sophia Peletier, original character, Jenny Jones, June Dorie, Pete Anderson, mention Morgan Jones and John Dorie, Luke, Carl Grimes, mentions of Judith Grimes, Tyreese Williams, Duane Jones, mention of Eastman, T-Dog, Axel. 
> 
> Prompt(s) used: “Do you trust me?” 
> 
> Author’s Note: inspired by a little drabble in my Across the Universe(s) drabble series—“Quit stalling.” Apologies for the sucktacular title and the fact that I’m jumping off the deep end and starting another story. Clearly, I’m losing it. But whatever. I made words. So it’s a lose-win situation, lol. Also, in case you didn’t notice, I brought over a couple of friends from Fear and I’m keeping my options open about bringing over more. We shall see. Anyway. Fingers crossed this somehow breaks up the log jam that is currently the state of Waltzing. I miss writing that story so freaking much.

**Dr. Pete Anderson didn’t like kids.**

**Carol had it figured out within two seconds of meeting the man, his so-called secret. His absolute, lip-curling distaste for the parade of little humans that were the King County clinic’s bread and butter was _that_ apparent. Hard to miss really and ironic considering. **

**Those frequently possessed of snotty noses and tiny hands that were somehow, some impossible way always sticky were both the bane of his existence and the source of much of his livelihood.**

**She couldn’t help but wonder how someone that couldn’t even be bothered to open up his heart to the frightened tears that inevitably came from being thrust into a place so cold and sterile and generally unwelcoming as their place of employment possessed one at all. Most likely, she supposed, his chest was hollow and a big cavernous nothing occupied the space where the faulty organ should be. Yes, most likely. Too bad he worked every Monday. As did she.**

**“Did somebody get me the goddamn labs I asked for?!”**

**The question yelled so near to her ear was all the warning Carol had before a mug of coffee was unceremoniously slammed down in front of her, causing her to flinch. She watched with dismay as the bitter black brew sloshed over the ceramic edge, instantly soaking into the printed labs in question, and took in a deep breath in an effort to fortify herself for what she knew was coming. Thankfully, her coworker stepped in to prevent her from falling onto her figurative sword.**

**“The printer’s jammed again, Sir.”**

**Jenny Jones was one of the most even-tempered individuals Carol had ever met. Whether she was helping keep a toddler calm while they had a _lost_ Flintstone vitamin fished out of their nose or explaining to a patient that body spray was not meant to be used internally via the rectum, she always wore the same placid expression. She wore it now, even in the face of Dr. Anderson’s poorly reigned in rage at humanity at large. **

**“Thought the damn thing was fixed.”**

**“It was. It isn’t now. Noah’s working on it.”**

**“Who’s…know what? Forget it. I don’t care. Just get me those labs. Sometime today.” With that, he stalked off to greet his next patient, continuing to grumble beneath his breath.**

**Finally, Carol felt like she could exhale, and she did, feeling a lot like a deflated balloon. Or at least, the way she _imagined_ a deflated balloon might feel. “You’re too good to me.” **

**Jenny’s chair squeaked as she pushed it back from the desk. Eyes brightened and lips twitching with humor, she replied, “You bring me cookies. I would be crazy not to be.”**

**“Duane like the strawberry lemonade cookies?”**

**“Like them?” Jenny scoffed. “That boy loved them. At least the two his daddy let him have. Morgan made me promise to get the recipe from you. Told me to resort to blackmail if I had to.” Shaking her head, she mused fondly, “That man. He loves ya’ll’s cookies.”**

**“I’d worry about him if he didn’t. Everybody loves Carol and Sophia’s cookies.”**

**Carol looked pointedly at her watch before returning their newcomer’s easy grin. “Just get here when you can.” June Dorie was a relative latecomer to the clinic staff, still an enigma in so many ways. But she was capable, compassionate, and currently very much in love, and like Jenny before her? Carol had relied on her instincts, welcoming her to cross that imaginary line separating coworker from friend.**

**Other than the precious pink blush belonging to only the happiest of newlyweds tinging her cheeks, June was unruffled by Carol’s teasing. “Thank you. I will.” She did, however, wrinkle her nose at the sodden lump on the counter before her. “What did I miss?”**

**Her answer came from the irate boss man himself. “Where are my fucking labs?!”**

**June winced. “Happy Monday, huh?”**

**Carol grit her teeth to keep from letting a few choice words slip free. Every Monday was a _happy_ Monday when your least favorite doc was a Monday constant. As if she needed more reason to hate them. Not only that, the waiting room was starting to fill up, _really_ fill up, right on cue. Taking a page out of Jenny’s book, she took a deep, calming, _let’s be zen_ breath, and pasted on what she hoped was a serene expression. Unsurprisingly, she failed. **

**Sparing a second to stuff the ruined labs into the nearby shred box, Jenny dabbed at the mess left behind with a handful of Kleenex and shook her head. “I see your wheels turning. You’re on desk duty with Liza ‘til you quit plotting the good doctor’s demise.”**

**June smirked. “Guess she’ll be out there forever then.”**

**“She might just be,” Jenny conceded. “June?”**

**“Get the asshole his labs?”**

**“You said it.”**

* * *

**“And again! We want to make Stevie and your parents proud!”**

**In unison, the entire sweaty, spent marching band groaned, and they groaned rather dramatically.**

**Perspiration prickling along his own scalp, the band director couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad. Quite the contrary. Depressing the button on the side of his megaphone, he blew out a long, drawn out groan of his own and deadpanned, “I felt that. Take five everybody.”**

**“Five?! But Mr. Fogler!”**

**“Alright, alright. Fifteen and find some shade.”**

**Everybody scattered after that. Almost everybody. They needed no more prompting.**

**Sophia, however? She stayed right where she was, sinking to the grass like a boneless slug bug and letting her eyes drift closed for a brief second. She stifled a shriek when she felt something cold slither across the back of her exposed neck. “What the…stop it, Carl.” In spite of her grumbling, she gratefully took the bottle of water he held out in offering, tipping it back and taking a long swallow. Shooting a wondering glance at the boy she’d long considered her best friend.**

**Carl dropped down beside her, mindful of the clarinet she’d cast almost carelessly aside. He’d left his own snare drum where he stood in his haste to seek her out, and he stared at her now, his blue eyes hidden behind the dark lenses of his shades.**

**Sophia’s fingertips fluttered self-consciously over her freckled cheeks and the long auburn ponytail coiled carelessly atop her head. “What?”**

**Carl’s lips remained zipped. They merely curled in a _barely even there_ smirk and he shrugged. **

**Sophia narrowed her eyes at him, wholly unconvinced of his truthfulness. They’d known each other since they were both in pullups and the wait to get their respective drivers’ licenses was almost over. Of course, he was lying. Even if he was doing it without words. “Carl Richard Grimes!”**

**“Did you just full name me?”**

**“I just full named you and I’ll do it again.”**

**“Ooooo. I’m so scared.”**

**“Don’t be such a…” Sophia floundered for a word adequate enough to express her frustration. A good _clean_ word because that’s the way her mama had raised her, but really. None of them were very satisfying. **

**Carl laughed. “You can’t do it, can you?”**

**“Know it all jerk.”**

**“But you’re my favorite Disney princess, Soph,” Carl said, snagging the forgotten water bottle from her hands and taking a swig of his own. “Jude’s too.”**

**An unwelcome smile twitched at the edges of Sophia’s affected pout. “Shut up.”**

**“Alright,” Carl agreed easily enough.**

**The silence didn’t last long, though. He was back to his insufferable teasing before they’d had time enough to finish the water bottle between them, and that didn’t take long at all. “Carl. I mean it. Stop.”**

**“Stop what?” Snickering as he dodged her annoyed little fists, he feigned innocence, “I didn’t even say anything.”**

**“Yeah, well. You didn’t have to. Just spit it out.”**

**“You want to spit it out? You really want me to?”**

**“Please,” Sophia huffed, leaning forward to wrap her arms protectively around her updrawn legs. She steadfastly ignored Carl’s gaze as she waited for him to put his particular brand of Sophia-torture into words and it definitely wasn’t the sun heating her cheeks when she spit out her last little piece of pleading encouragement. “Do.”**

**“This one time. At band camp…”**

**“I swear to God, Carl,” Sophia muttered miserably.**

**“You know Mr. Fogler said _shade_ right? Not Cade.” **

* * *

**On the other end of the football field, the indirect source of Sophia Peletier’s current humiliation was sweating his balls off doing drills for a team he wasn’t sure he even wanted to be a part of. And it showed.**

**Coach Williams’s deep voice carried, across the clashing bodies and sticky late summer heat. “Mr. Phillips. Do you or do you _not_ want to be here?” **

**Hands braced on his hips, jersey clinging wetly to his heaving chest, Cade figured there was no pussyfooting around the truth. That shit never did anybody no good. “Presently? No, Sir. At least Satan’s ass crack would have shade.”**

**Appreciative snickers swelled, rising and traveling from teammate to potential teammate like a wave, and Coach Williams showed a brief, scary flash of teeth before sobering up and making full use of his huge, intimidating linebacker build. “That so?”**

**Cade knew better than to waltz right into that trap. He’d become quite adept over the years of sidestepping trouble when it come looking, and until he proved otherwise, Coach Williams weren’t any different than any other coach or teacher. So he clamped his mouth shut and dropped to give the man twenty unasked. Or at least he tried to. The man stopped him with a boot on his back before he got ten good pushups in, barking at the whole lot of them to take a long overdue break. The grass felt prickly beneath his sweaty pits when his limp noodle arms gave out on him, but Cade didn’t care. A bottle of orange Gatorade appeared out of thin air, and he’d guzzled nearly the whole thing before he bothered looking up to see where it actually came from.**

**A short, stocky black kid stared down at him, something like admiration on his face.**

**Heaving himself over onto his back with a groan, Cade muttered his gratitude and shielded his eyes from that look and the sun. Both of them were pretty damn blinding in their own way. He recited a silent prayer that the boy, who he vaguely recognized as a freshman, would just fuck off and leave him alone. Like most of his prayers, it went unanswered.**

**“I’m Duane. You’re Cade.”**

**Forcibly swallowing the overwhelming urge to mock the kid right to his oblivious face, Cade merely grunted an affirmation and lifted his arm to get a better peek at him. He felt an unexpected twinge of guilt when he took in the boy’s slumped posture. “Running back right?”**

**“Like you.”**

**Hardly, but Cade kindly chose not to point it out. Instead, he made small talk best as he knew how. “Didn’t I hear you say your dad has his own martial arts place down on Main?”**

**“He’s partners with Mr. Eastman, but yeah. You been there?”**

**“Nope, but I’ve thought about it. Think you can talk him into cutting me a sweet deal? Might be nice to learn different ways to kick some ass.” Handy, considering he knew next to nobody in this one-horse town and in his experience? It never took long for welcomes to be worn out. He left that part unsaid, too.**

**“I…I don’t know. But I think so. I’ll have to see.”**

**“You get on that.”**

**“I will.”**

**“Hey, Water Boy. Why don’t you shut your trap and do your damn job?”**

**Duane sighed and made to push himself to his feet, but Cade jerked him back down. “Nah. I got this.”**

**“You don’t have to.”**

**“Do you trust me? We got us a deal, right?”**

**“Right.”**

**“K then. Watch this.” Cade winked, standing up and stretching to his full height. “Hey, lazy asshole. Why don’t you get your own fucking water?”**

* * *

**“Man, you been back in town, what? Almost a month and I’m the only person knows it. I’m not accusing you of hiding, but…”**

**Wiping his greasy hands on the red rag that never strayed far from his back pocket, Daryl virtually dared T-Dog to continue his train of thought. T smartly refused to take the bait, dropping the subject and ambling on over to join him in admiring his handy work.**

**“You trying to put those Gas Monkey dudes outta business.”**

**“Stahp.”**

**“You think I’m kidding? I ain’t. I knew you was good. I just didn’t know you was this good. And it ain’t even your day job.”**

**“Hear that, Boss?” Axel oh-so-helpfully piped up. “It ain’t ya day job.”**

**“Don’t reckon nobody yanked your chain, Mr. Monopoly. You got them brakes fixed yet?”**

**Axel hemmed and hawed, but in the end, he admitted he had a lot of work still left to do.**

**When Daryl turned his attention back to T-Dog, his old friend was trying—and failing—to keep a straight face.**

**“Mr. Monopoly?”**

**“Yeah, well. He shaves that shit off? He’ll look more like the Planter’s Peanut.”**

**T-Dog guffawed, earning himself more than a couple dirty looks from the source of his endless amusement. “Missed you ‘round these parts. Can’t tell you how good it does me to see you back. Even if I’ve never seen you leave these four walls. How do you eat, Man?”**

**“Like an uncivilized pig,” Daryl deadpanned.**

**T’s grin stretched wide, but he was otherwise unperturbed. “You said it. Not me.” Putting a few paces between them, he started absently inspecting some nearby tools. “Little birdy down at the high school been talking.”**

**“Don’t ya mean tweeting? That’s the big thing now,” Axel said, doing what he does best again. Inserting himself into a conversation that didn’t involve him in the least. “Tweeter.”**

**This time, T-Dog and Daryl both ignored him and Daryl was surprised to realize he wanted to hear more. “Yeah? What you been hearing?”**

**“Kid’s talented. Going places if he decides to put in more effort. If he keeps his nose clean and gives his school work the attention it deserves when classes start…”**

**“Tell me something I don’t know,” Daryl muttered. “I’m trying. Even if he ain’t.”**

**“Hey, Man. I get it. You two? Ya’ll still getting to know each other. I can’t imagine what it feels like for either one of you.”**

**Axel couldn’t resist butting in one more time, and Daryl decided _fuck_ _it_. He nodded. Just let him. **

**“Woman showed up on his doorstep and basically said _congratulations, it’s a boy_. _Your problem now_. Now he’s just as much a daddy as he is an uncle. Ain’t fair if you ask me. Got all the responsibility without getting to have any of the fun.” **

**_Well, shit_. He hadn’t exactly thought about it in those particular terms, but the twitchy little bastard weren’t exactly wrong. “Back to work. Ain’t telling you no more.” To T-Dog, he simply sighed and raked a tired hand over his unshaven face. “I’m trying. I am.” **

**“Kid’s gonna have to meet you halfway.”**

**“Try three quarters.”**

**“Axel!”**

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is love. 
> 
> Seriously. If this first little chapter intrigued you at all or you're interested in more, throw a girl a life raft. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!!!


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